


Hands to Myself

by JokesterWrites



Series: Entwined [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Stalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JokesterWrites/pseuds/JokesterWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor likes a good game of cat and mouse. He just hates being the mouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands to Myself

**Author's Note:**

> I was given this challenge on Tumblr based off the song "Hands to myself" by Selena Gomez. The challenge is to create a fanfic based off the music video, song, or general feel.

Victor liked a good game of cat and mouse. But he hated being the mouse.

The Zsazette’s were unaware of his second house, the stylish abode in upper Gotham. It was his own personal secret, a piece of himself separate from his work life. In fact no one ought to know of it. Which is why when he unlocked the door and turned the alarm off, he was puzzled and instantly on guard upon seeing a sheer black robe crumbled on the stairs.

He pulled out his gun, a prickling sensation along his spine. Crouching, he picked up the stain garment, bringing it up to his nose for a long sniff.

An unusual combination of mint and vanilla.

A memory tugged at him, but he couldn’t recall why this scent seemed so familiar. Checking over the rest of his house, Victor was forced to conclude whoever had broken in was gone. They had taken nothing, and nothing was out of place. Just leaving that teasing piece of satin for him to find.

Despite changing his alarm, the next day was the same. The unique perfume permeated his kitchen and a still warm cup of tea was giving off lazy coils of steam. No fingerprints, just the smudge of red lipstick on the rim. Victor was entirely on edge now. He ordered surveillance cameras installed. 

The week following was normal. No entry into his home, no little reminders that someone had touched his personal belongings. It set him at ease again, though the thought still nagged at the back of his mind. Who was this woman? He assumed it must be a woman…. between the robe and the rouge lipstick left on the teacup.

It happened again, but this time he was at home. He awoke to the now familiar scent of mint and vanilla hanging over him like a plague he simply couldn’t shake. One of his shirts was thrown on the ground, a kiss of lipstick on the collar, but once again there was no one here, just the open sliding door that lead to his balcony. Victor was enraged, and set down stairs to view the footage. His stalker couldn’t get away with this any longer. His attention was caught by a sticky note attached to the monitor running surveillance cameras. “Nice try x.o.x.o.” She had deleted all the stored footage. Victor’s jaw tightened, and he crumbled the hot pink note in his fist.

x.x

Nina smirked, watching the object of her attention throw a mild tantrum in his living room over her note. Toying with Victor Zsasz had been remarkably easy. All it took was a bit of information from a very drunk Zsaszette and discrete evening of following Victor around to find his home. Her background in security systems certainly helped when it came to disabling his systems, and hacking into the surveillance cameras. Now she knew exactly when he was home, and every entrance out. But now it was time for this cat and mouse game to end.

She unlocked his front door with a reproduced key, and attended to setting up her stage. For this was a show he wouldn’t want to miss. Letting the alarm buzz, she once again dropped her clothes like a treasure trail through his house for him to follow.

x.x

The front door was ajar when he arrived, and Victor could still smell her lingering scent. He followed the clothes that were dropped, collecting them as he went to try and piece together who this woman was.

Knee high dark brown leather boots, with some even darker splatters across them. Patterns Victor easily recognised as blood.

Sturdy black leather jacket, slightly marked in spots where it appeared she’d gotten into a fight.

Well worn but loved leather holsters that were small enough to fit over slender shoulders. Matching guns with gilded handles. Showy but effective none the less.

Nondescript dark grey blouse and black pants. Someone who was comfortable but used to running based on the stretch.

The last pieces of clothes he found lead him to his bathroom where he could hear the shower still running. High waisted practical lingerie and matching bra were tossed carelessly over the floor. But the shower was empty, the water cold, and Victor immediately turned towards his room, gun now firmly in hand and ready to fire.

“Victor… I thought you’d never arrive.”

The woman was lying on her stomach against his black silken sheets, wearing only one of his dark grey shirts, barely buttoned over her obviously naked form. From here he could see the gentle curve of her ass as she looked up at him with those big blue eyes, so devious in their own right.

He recognised her in an instant and cursed himself. He should have known. That familiar scent of mint and vanilla had been taunting the back of his mind for weeks now.

“Nina Cadwell.” He greeted.

She smiled winningly, “I’m surprised it took you this long. I thought you would have figured that it was me by now. Though I did try my best to keep it a secret. I thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

Victor stood in the doorway, not willing to move further, or else he would have his hands around her throat. “Haven’t you heard of calling?”

“A phone call? That’s boring Victor. This was so much more fun.Besides… when it comes to you, I just can’t keep my hands to myself,” She stretched out like a cat, rolling onto her back and playing with those long strands of dark hair. Victor could still recall how silken it felt wrapped around his hand in the throes of passion.

“This is… unacceptable. When did it cross your mind to think that any of this… stalker behaviour… was acceptable?!” While relieved it was just her, Victor was still pissed off that she’d played him.

With agile ease she rolled off the bed, landing on her feet and stalking towards him. “When you thought it was alright to put a bullet through my shoulder and leave me for dead.” Nimble fingers tugged back the shirt to reveal the damaged tissue where he had injured her. “This is payback. I put my trust in you that day and you violated it. Now you know how it feels when someone violates you.”

Victor clenched his jaw, “I ought to put another hole in you for that.”

Nina sighed disparagingly, “So dramatic, Victor. You and I…. we always had a flair for theatrics….I could say there’s other holes you could put to good use.” She ran manicured nails over the shirt she wore, showing off a bit of cleavage.

“Get out.” Victor ignored the temptation of her skin, and stepped aside, gesturing with his gun.

“Fine… but you know you’ll miss me. We had good times, you and I.” Nina smirked, “I’m keeping the shirt.” She paused up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek and he flinched.

“If you don’t leave in 1 minute, I will put a bullet through that sick brain of yours.” Victor warned her dangerously. Her rouge lips pouted and then she gave him a wicked smile. 

“Maybe one day. See you around Victor.” Then she was gone.

Victor waited in his bedroom, listening to the scuffle of her boots as she left his house. He could still smell her, still feel the touch of her lips against his skin. She was a virus to him. One that both repulsed and catered to him. It was like she was built for him, a coy mix of devil and angel. She was a natural born thief, who had once almost stolen his heart. Nina had been in and out of his life so many times… they would always be entwined in some way. Taunting and teasing each other, testing the limits until they broke.

Maybe next time, he would be the cat.


End file.
